


Bruises and Bitemarks

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [104]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bite marks, Dorks in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Kisses, Love Bites, Magic, Morning After, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: A collection of pissed off egos and their cheeky partners on the morning after.





	1. Bim and King

“_Bim!_”

Bim was snapped into the world of the living, blinking awake slowly. He groaned, rolling over in bed and pressing his face into the pillows.

“_Bim, wake the fuck up!_”

Bim raised one hand, signaling his awareness to avoid pissing King off further. “I’m up, I’m up. Whatcha want?”

“Roll your ass over and _see_, dammit!”

Bim obeyed, starting at the sight of a slightly blurry King standing above him. Even without his glasses, he could see clearly the _several _bitemarks decorating the sides of his neck and shoulders. Bim grinned lazily. “What seems to be the problem here?”

King scowled, planting his hands on his hips. “You _prick! _I can’t leave my room like this!”

Bim rolled back over. “You weren’t complaining so much last night.”

He chuckled when King smacked him, voice high with distress. “_Bim!_ Did you have to leave so _many_ at least?! And so _visible?!_”

“I’m a _cannibal_, King,” Bim wailed dramatically, rolling over and spreading eagle on the bed. “I couldn’t stop myself! Would you rather me literally eat you?”

King grumbled something under his breath, one arm wrapped around his middle with the other hand idly fingering the bites imbedded into his skin. He frowned, then spun on his heel, heading toward the bathroom. Bim grinned again at the sight of the angry red lines trailing down his back as well. “Where do you keep your makeup?”

And just like that Bim’s eyes were shooting wide and he was tumbling out of bed, falling to the floor with a loud _thump!_, one of his legs still raised high and suspended in the bedsheets. “Ow – holy _fuck!_ King – wait – you don’t know how to use that stuff!”

King’s head poked out of the bathroom, snorting at the sight of Bim half on the floor. “Then get your dramatic, glittery ass in here and _help me!_”

Bim grumbled to himself as he picked himself up off the floor, shaking his leg free. “If it makes you feel better,” he muttered, coming up behind King and pressing a kiss to his jaw, “you are _very _tasty.” His lips traveled lower, pressing a kiss to the first bitemark he came upon before running his tongue over it. “Mm…like sugar…”

King shuddered, blushing bright before shoving Bim away. “I need you to help me _hide _these, dammit, not make _more!_”

Bim laughed. “I can’t resist, I’m sorry!”

King glared at him. “_Resist_, or you’re going to have a _bigger _mark in the shape of my fist on your cheek.”

Bim pouted, pulling open a drawer under the sink. “Fine…”


	2. Bing and Google

Bing stared at himself in the mirror above his desk, stripped of his usual tank top and logo blazing brilliantly against his bare skin, giving a strange glow to his pendant. But that’s not what he was looking at. What he was _looking _at were the dozens of glowing, golden marks decorating his whole body.

“Google! What did you _do_, man?!” He poked one of the marks, wincing slightly.

Bing caught Google smirking from the bed in the reflection, his eyes flashing. “What you asked, Bing.”

Bing pouted, spinning to face the other. “Well _yeah_, but I didn’t know you could actually leave _marks!_ Aren’t we built to be tougher than that?”

Google’s smirk widened. “You should never underestimate how determined I can be.” Bing groaned, poking at the marks again, and Google slid out of bed, wrapping an arm around Bing waist and running his own fingers across some of the glowing marks trailing across Bing’s hip. “If they bother you that much, we can run to the office real quick and repair them.”

Bing snorted. “Are you kidding? I don’t want to get _rid _if them, I asked you to make them for a reason, dude.” He grinned when a faint blush appeared on Google’s cheeks. “I’m just pissed it was so easy _to _make them. I thought it be more challenging.” He leaned his head onto Google’s shoulder, eyes slipping shut. He cracked one open, however, raising an eyebrow, when Google shifted away, climbing back into bed. “Uh, Googs? What are you doing?”

Google’s face lit up deep blue. “Well, we still have about half an hour before the others grow suspicious, and _my _skin is more resilient than yours…”

Slowly, a broad grin spread across Bing’s face, and he launched himself back into bed, covering Google’s body with his own and making his blush darken. Bing immediately buried his face against Google’s throat, delighting in the sound of his core hitching before he’d even _done _anything. “Google, I love you, and you are going to _so _regret this.”

Google let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak as Bing sent to work, kissing and nipping at his skin and showering him with his undivided attention. He laughed breathlessly when Bing’s hands took a hold of his biceps, pressing him more firmly against the bed, and his own came up to grip Bing’s hips. “Do your worst, Bing.”

Bing pulled back, grinning and eyes blazing a brilliant gold, breathing a little heavily. “Oh, I very much intend to.”

Let’s just say, the others _definitely _grew suspicious.

(And the glowing blue marks that were only half-hidden by Google’s shirt collar certainly didn’t help.)


	3. The Host and Dr. Iplier

“Fucking dammit, Host!”

Dr. Iplier scowled as he stared in the bathroom mirror, shirt absent and staring with distaste at the trail of deep purple bruises that mapped out his collar bone and throat, going all the way up to his jawline. In other words, _far _too visible in his everyday work outfit.

He glanced back over his shoulder, at the lump still in bed with a smaller, furrier lump resting on top of it. “Host! Get your ass in here!”

The Host groaned, shifting beneath the blankets, and Peggy lifted her head. She blinked at Dr. Iplier, giving him the cat equivalent of a scathing death glare for waking her up before she stretched languidly and hopped off the Host, crawling beneath the bed instead. At last, the man himself slipped slowly out of bed, dragging himself along with his head lolling on his shoulders and shirtless. He stopped in the bathroom doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and Dr. Iplier couldn’t help but snort and smile at the sight of the Host’s bedhead, his hair sticking up in every direction to the point where his blond streak was almost invisible. When he spoke, his voice was rough with sleep, a deep rumble that usually sent shivers down Dr. Iplier’s spine, but he was too pissed off to care in the moment. “…What does Dr. Iplier want?”

Dr. Iplier frowned, gesturing wildly to his upper body. “_Fix this!_”

Considering he didn’t open his mouth again to narrate, the Host’s Sight must’ve flashed, because a broad grin spread across his face, and he laughed, leaning more comfortably against the doorframe. “But why? The Host believes Dr. Iplier looks _perfect_.”

The Host purred his last word, grin becoming smug and cheeky, and this time Dr. Iplier couldn’t stop the shudder. Still, he smacked the Host’s shoulder, which only made him laugh more. “I have a _job_, you royal bastard! I can’t go to the hospital like this, let alone _public_ in _general_.”

The Host simply raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it but frankly only made it worse. “Then don’t.”

Dr. Iplier opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, caught off-guard by the Host’s short reply. Finally, his face flushed, and placed his hands on his hips. “Just _fix it_, Goddammit.”

The Host exuded an air of rolling his eyes, but he bounced off the doorframe, stepping closer to Dr. Iplier. He startled a squeak out of the other when he spun him around and pulled him close, his back flush against the Host’s chest. The Host chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of Dr. Iplier’s head as he turned them to face the mirror. Slowly, he trailed his lips across the same path he followed the previous night, muttering words as he went, and by the time he was done all the bruises were gone and Dr. Iplier was blushing furiously in his grasp, gripping onto his arms.

The Host let go, leaning back against the wall, and crossing his arms and ankles with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, _absolutely_ aware of what reaction he caused. “There. Fixed.”

Dr. Iplier’s blush deepened, and he swatted the Host again. “There _had _to have been an easier way to do that.”

The Host shrugged. “Most likely.” He grinned. “Think of it as payback for all the times Dr. Iplier has left the Host’s thighs and hips so bruised and dotted with love bites that he couldn’t sit properly.”

Dr. Iplier swore under his breath. “Fine, _fuck_, that’s a fair point. You win.”

The Host chuckled again, uncrossing his arms and moving back into the bedroom, pulling out one of his coats from his wardrobe. “The Host suggests that Dr. Iplier get dressed. They only have five minutes until breakfast starts.”

Dr. Iplier’s eyes shot wide and he raced toward the dresser, rifling around for a shirt and pants. The Host helpfully tossed him his doctor’s coat from the wardrobe, and Dr. Iplier pointed at him dramatically, not looking away from the drawer he was thoroughly destroying. “If you make us late because of your bullshit mind games I will _absolutely _throw you under the bus and probably stab you with my fork.”

The Host snorted. “The Host will take no such responsibility. Dr. Iplier should stop talking and focus more on getting dressed.”

“_Dick!_”

“The Host loves Dr. Iplier, too.”


	4. Dark and Wilford

Dark caught Wil bouncing out of bed with a disturbing amount of energy out of the corner of eye and through the open bathroom door. He didn’t turn his focus away from the mirror for long, though, continuing to gently cover the numerous dark bruises along his shoulders and throat with makeup.

Wil came up behind him, trailing a hand along his back before wrapping his arm around Dark’s waist and leaning in for a good-morning kiss, a request Dark happily obliged in, smiling at his husband before going back to what he was doing. “I will never understand how you wake up with so much energy.

Wil hummed, grinning. “_Magic._” Dark rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and Wil chuckled before his expression dropped into a pout. “_I_ don’t understand why you always cover these. I worked so hard!”

Dark laughed, blushing a little. “Appearances, my love. How would you feel if _your _parents appeared for breakfast one morning and one of them was covered in obvious love bites?” Wil’s face scrunched up, tongue sticking out, and Dark laughed again. “Exactly.”

Wil’s pout returned. “Yes, but it’s so rare that you let me mark you! Can’t you just leave _one_, but maybe glamour it? So I can still see it, but no one else can?”

Dark’s blush deepened, but he did as Wil asked, leaving one mark higher up on his throat simply veiled with magic. He saw Wil’s eyes light up in the mirror’s reflection, pressing two fingers to the bruise, and Dark promptly flushed to near black, swallowing back an embarrassing noise. When Wil let up, he cleared his throat, turning to actually face him. “Possessive today.”

Wil snorted, arching an eyebrow. “You’re calling _me _possessive? Are you kidding me?”

Dark shrugged, though he was grinning widely. He took Wil’s hands in his own, leaning forward a little in order to press their foreheads together briefly before he shifted, burying his face against the side of Wil’s throat, nipping gently against the skin and making the other gasp. “How about I give us matching ones,” he purred, breath ghosting over Wil’s throat and making him shiver. “So I as well get to stare at proof all day that you’re _mine_.”

Wil snorted again. “Yes, as if the wedding bands and nearly sixty years of devotion weren’t proof enough, _Mr. Possessive_,” he snarked. Dark hummed, nipping a little harder, and Wil’s legs suddenly threatened to give out beneath him, gripping onto Dark for support. “But yes, _please _do.”

Dark pressed his lips more firmly against Wil’s throat, running his tongue all along the sensitive skin. He pulled back after mere moments, pleased to find that Wil was already beginning to bruise from his teeth. “If we had more time there is _so _much more I would do to you.”

Wil smirked. “I know.” He checked his own mark out in the mirror before shielding it, winking at Dark. “But you can count on me dropping by your office later for a little ‘chat’.”

Dark grinned, pulling him forward for one last quick kiss. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I love these little shits so fucking much oh my God._ But guess what! Sunday is _dads!!!_ Bim and Ed are such good dads!


End file.
